


Claiming The Angel

by son_of_a_bitch_supernatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkward Castiel, Big Brother Dean, Cas heals Sam, Dean Cares, Dean Has a Crush, Dean saves Sam, Honestly this was a pick me up, I needed some light destiel, It couldve been darker, Its just a cute story, Its just cute and i needed this, M/M, angel!cas - Freeform, sick!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 19:26:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7374403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/son_of_a_bitch_supernatural/pseuds/son_of_a_bitch_supernatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the Angels home. Or, so the legends said. Many warned against trespassing. Some said that those who went in never came back out. But, others said the secret to claiming an Angel was in the cave. If Dean had any chance to claim an Angel and heal Sammy, he didn't have much of a choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Claiming The Angel

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose this could've been darker and deeper but I just really wanted a light fic. Fight me. Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> -sobs

Dean Winchester was two things. He was smart enough to know when something was a long shot. And, he was just stupid enough not to care about long shots when it came to those he cared about. 

 

Leaning in the doorway, watching Bobby make Sam laugh as he distracted him enough to spoon feed him, Dean realized that a long shot was  _ something,  _ at least. A long shot was a fucking miracle at this point. 

 

Sam was so small now, which would've been hilarious under different circumstances. Except, Sam wasn't supposed to be that small. He wasn't twelve anymore and he shouldn't look it. The gaunt look he had made him look older than what he was, even if his size told a different lie. 

 

Bobby was a gruff man and normally so callous but his touch was gentle as he held Sam's head up and fed him warm soup. Sam's touch was as faint as a butterfly's wing and as weak as a deflated balloon. Bobby never let on that Sam was so obviously sick, his face never once crumbling. It was most likely why Sam preferred Bobby's presence to Dean's. 

 

Dean tried but he couldn't ever keep it together. Sam was his brother, his little brother who he'd taken care of his whole life. And, his little brother was  _ dying.  _ Dean didn't know how to cope with that. 

 

He, at least, had the long shot. And, it was a very unlikely option. The turnout would most likely be disappointing and a waste of his time. 

 

But, damn if Dean wasn't going to try. 

 

It was either that or watch Sam die, standing by and doing absolutely nothing. Which, that was basically what everyone was asking him to do. They told him over and over how sorry they were but he just  _ had  _ to know that there wasn't a thing he could do. They offered condolences, even though Sam still had breath to give. They warned him, told him not to do anything stupid, told him that there were  _ no  _ options. 

 

They lied. 

 

There was a fucking option. A taboo option but an option nonetheless. It was something no one dared to talk about or even think about, let alone  _ try. _ Yet, Dean was just crazy enough to do it. Cared just a bit too much to sit by and ignore a long shot, no matter how much he  _ should _ or just how long that shot  _ was. _

 

Dean knocked carefully against the door, making Bobby look up. Sam's head feebly turned and Dean had to school his expression. Sam blinked up at him and smiled, looking just as happy as he always did when Dean popped a head in. Bobby sat the soup to the side and lightly patted Sam's shoulder, murmuring that he'd be right back. 

 

“Bobby.” Dean mumbled and jerked his head, requesting privacy. 

 

“My office.” Bobby grunted, following Dean down the hall and into his office. “What can I do you for, boy?” 

 

“I need to ask you a favor, Bobby.” Dean sighed. 

 

“I don't have any more cars you can rip apart and put back together.” Bobby said, reaching in his drawer and pulling out a flask. He took a deep swallow as he eyed Dean over the bottom. 

 

“I don't want another car, Bobby.” Dean said and rolled his eyes. “I need you to do something for me.” 

 

“Well, spit it out.” Bobby huffed, gulping some more. 

 

“If it was anyone but you, I wouldn't ask. Probably because I wouldn't trust anyone else.” Dean mumbled and glanced down at the desk between them. 

 

“What is it?” Bobby asked him. 

 

“I need you to watch out for Sammy for me.” Dean whispered, swallowing around the lump in his throat. 

 

Bobby was silent, not even drinking from his flask. 

 

“I want you to ask me that again but I want you to think it through before you do.” Bobby said slowly, his words coming out halting and sharp. 

 

“It's not that I  _ want _ to leave him, Bobby, it's that I have to.” Dean said earnestly, looking up at Bobby. 

 

Bobby stared at him for a long time, his lips pressed into a thin line and a firm frown between his eyebrows. He was staring at Dean like he couldn't understand him and with enough concentration and silence, he finally would. His anger was palpable. 

 

“Where on God's green earth are you planning on going?” Bobby growled, nostrils flaring. 

 

“Look, I could've just ran off, you know. I know you'd watch after Sammy. I  _ know _ that. But, I have enough respect to actually-” 

 

“ _ Respect? _ You call up and leaving your little brother for God knows what, respect!?” Bobby yelled. 

 

“I'm not leaving him!” Dean snapped back. 

 

“Then, what do you call it?” Bobby asked harshly, narrowing his eyes. “Because, we call that abandonment where I come from.” 

 

“Dammit, Bobby, I'm coming back!” Dean shouted. 

 

“But, you're leaving! With him like that!? He's on his last breath, Dean.” Bobby argued. 

 

“He'll be  _ fine. _ ” Dean hissed. “Sammy's a survivor. He's gonna be waiting when I get back.” 

 

“Why leave at all?” Bobby muttered. “What could possibly be more important than your brother?” 

 

“Nothing.” Dean said weakly, swallowing and averting his eyes. Bobby went very still. 

 

“Dean.” Bobby said softly, cautiously. “ _ Where _ exactly are you going, then?”

 

“I'm not just gonna sit around and wait for my little brother to die, Bobby.” Dean said defensively. 

 

At that, he basically gave himself away. Bobby's suspicion immediately melted to understanding, quickly followed by panic. He hastily stood up, slamming his flask down with a sharp thud. 

 

“You've got to be about the dumbest boy I know.”

 

“You have to take credit for some of that.” 

 

“What kind of fool are you if you think I'm just going to allow you to risk your life?” Bobby snapped. 

 

“Allow me?” Dean laughed bitterly. “I'm not a kid anymore, Bobby. You can't  _ stop  _ me.” 

 

“You have to know this is a suicide mission. And, where are you even going to get a boat?” Bobby insisted rapidly, moving around the desk to get in Dean's face, trying to convey how stupid he thought Dean actually was. 

 

“Sally is a piece of junk from your graveyard but I managed to fix her up. Saved up enough to get her a brand new motor. She'll sail like a dream.” Dean said casually and shrugged. 

 

Bobby raised his hand and rubbed his down his face, tugging at his beard in frustration. Dean hated to see the worry there, the slight hysterical panic painted across his features. He hated even more that he was the one to add to what was already there. 

 

“You're just stupid enough to think you can do this, aren't you?” Bobby breathed out, shaking his head in pure disbelief. Dean swallowed. 

 

“I've got to try. That's my brother.” 

 

“You'll die.” 

 

“He will if I don't try.” Dean croaked out, everything in him flinching at the harsh truth.

 

“Dean, I'm telling you not to. This is a suicide mission and what if- What about Sam, huh? What happens if you're not back in time? You gonna be able to live with that?” Bobby gritted out. 

 

“I'm gonna do what I gotta do to save my brother. No matter how long it takes. Sammy will be just fine until I get back. All I need you to do is watch after him for me. Please, Bobby?” Dean murmured earnestly. 

 

“I'm watching over him regardless.” Bobby said with a sigh, clamping his eyes shut and shaking his head. 

 

“That's all I need from you, Bobby. I can do the rest.” Dean said with relief. 

 

He eased back towards the door, trying not to feel Bobby's grief for what it was. Dean was going to be fine and so was Sam. Bobby just didn't know it, yet. 

 

“When are you leaving?” Bobby asked softly. 

 

“Boat's hooked up to Baby. I did it last night. I'm going to go explain to Sam and then, I'm gone.” Dean said.

 

“Don't waste no time, do ya?” Bobby said gruffly. 

 

“I'll be alright, Bobby.” Dean tried to reassure him. Yet, Bobby swallowed thickly and let out a shaky breath. 

 

“I know, boy. I know you will.” Bobby croaked out. 

 

Despite his words, he moved forward and pulled Dean into a tight hug. Dean knew that Bobby truly believed it would be the last time he seen him. No reassurances could convince Bobby and Dean half wondered what that said about him. Still, he gripped Bobby tightly, hugging him back. 

 

“I have to go.” Dean persisted, slowly pulling back. Bobby clapped his cheek, holding his jaw and neck. 

 

“Be safe out there, Dean.”

 

“I will, Bobby.” 

 

Bobby let him go and he walked back to Sam's room. The door was still cracked and he was thankful that Sam couldn't get up to listen in on there conversation. He moved into the room, clearing his throat so that Sam could throw his head over to watch him. 

 

“Hey, Dean.” Sam chirped. 

 

“Hey, Sammy.” Dean said, moving in so that he could sit on the bed and look at his little brother. 

 

“What’d you want with Bobby?” Sam asked curiously. 

 

“I needed a favor from him.” Dean said honestly. 

 

“What was it?” Sam murmured. 

 

“That doesn't matter.” Dean said quietly and cleared his throat. “I need a favor from you too.” 

 

“You do?” Sam snorted. “Hate to break it to you but I can't really do much at the moment.” 

 

“Sam.” Dean said sternly, trying to fight the way his stomach lurched. “I'm being serious.” 

 

“I know.” Sam mumbled. “You always are these days.”

 

“I'm leaving.” Dean announced. Sam's eyes snapped up to his face, confusion sparking in them. 

 

“What?” 

 

“I'm leaving. But, I'm coming back. What I need from you is to wait for me. Okay? Will you do that?” 

 

“How long are you going to be gone?” Sam asked and Dean's heart clenched at the fact that Sam was worried that he wouldn't have enough  _ time. _

 

“I'm not sure.” Dean said, chewing his inner lip. 

 

“Well… Where are you going?” Sam asked, his eyebrows furrowing. 

 

“Sammy.” Dean whispered, his voice cracking as he gave a weak smile. “You didn't really think I'd just sit by while you were sick and  _ not _ help you, did you?” 

 

Sam blinked up at him, his hazel green eyes fluttering. From one shutter to another, Dean could see when Sam got it. And, he could see the confusion morph into panic. Sam's body gave a jerk, something they hadn't seen in a long time. A surge of energy was rare and Sam would be super tired from it later but Sam didn't seem to care as he scooted as quickly as he could until he was sitting across from Dean. 

 

“Dean.” Sam said. “You  _ can't _ do that.” 

 

“Why not?” Dean asked, arching an eyebrow. Sam gave another jerk, his legs going stiff as they locked up. Dean reached out and held his shoulder. 

 

“You can't, Dean. You just can't, okay? It's suicide. You can't help me, so stop.” 

 

“You can save it, Sammy. Bobby has already beat that dead horse, so spare me the lecture. I'm  _ going _ and then, I'm coming back. We're gonna be fine.” 

 

“What if you're not?” Sam hissed. “I can't lose you.”

 

“Well, I can't lose you, either.” Dean shot back. 

 

“It's different. I'm  _ sick! _ You're just- you're going out on a suicide mission just so you won't have to watch me deteriorate.” Sam growled, his body giving another rough jerk. Sam seemed to ignore it. 

 

“I have to take care of you, Sammy. It's what I  _ do. _ Don't you get that? If there's a way-” 

 

“This isn't a  _ way!  _ This is just so you won't see me die!”

 

“You're not going to die!” 

 

“Yes, I  _ am,  _ Dean! Just fucking accept it, okay? I'm going to die and there is  _ nothing  _ you can do!” 

 

“Shut the fuck up, Sam!” Dean shouted, slamming his hands on the bed. “Just shut the hell up, okay!? Because, I  _ am _ going to help you and you are  _ not _ going to die. So, I'm not fucking accepting  _ anything! _ ”

 

Sam jerked again and his whole body locked up, going stiff with heavy tension. Dean cursed under his breath as Sam started to fall over. Dean slid close and wrapped his arms around him, feeling his frailness and hating it as he moved him into a more comfortable lying down position. 

 

“Dean.” Sam croaked out, his voice wrecked. “I don't want to die without you here.” 

 

“Then don't die.” Dean whispered, brushing a few locks of Sam's hair off his forehead. 

 

“I can't just decide when I'm going to die.” Sam huffed.

 

“Just hang tight until I get back, okay? That's all I'm asking. I  _ will  _ be back. Tell me when I've ever let you down, huh?” Dean insisted. 

 

“You've got to come back.” Sam whispered. 

 

“Okay, Sammy.” 

 

Sam's eyes fluttered and he let out a ragged sigh. Dean just stared into his open face, smoothing sweaty locks of hair from his forehead. Sam blinked and stared up at him before his eyes fluttered shut again. God, it was like he was four again. 

 

“M’tired, Dean.” Sam mumbled groggily. 

 

“Go to sleep.” Dean murmured. 

 

“You better come back.” Sam breathed out.

 

“Yeah, I will.” Dean promised, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Sam's forehead. “I love you, Sam.”

 

When Dean pulled back, Sam was asleep. 

.

.

.

 

Dean went west. 

 

He went west until he had drove as far west as the united states would allow. 

 

California was beautiful but he didn't make time to really stop and explore it. He just drove and filled Baby up with gas so he could drive some more. And, when Dean couldn't drive anymore, he tied his boat up in the water and parked Baby in storage until he returned. Because, he would. Return, that is.

 

He called Bobby and Sam right before he got into the boat. Bobby called him an idiot and Sam made him promise three different times that he was coming back. Dean agreed with Bobby and obliged Sam. 

 

The rest was actual smooth sailing. 

 

For Dean to hate flying, he sure liked to be at sea. It was...comforting in a way. The sea was seemingly endless and all of his problems seemed to leave him briefly. The sway of the waves and the roar of the motor drowned out his thoughts in a way alcohol never managed to. Dean just wished he'd had found out his joy for being at sea before. 

 

Dean's phone cut off a few moments after he rode along. A few minutes after that, Dean could see the hulking form of an island. Dean's heart started to race and he could feel an ominous aura around the massive piece of land. It wasn't something so obvious that was seen, it was  _ felt. _

 

There was something otherworldly about the island, something that made all of Dean's attention go on red alert. Goosebumps rose on his arms, despite the wet heat, and all of his tiny, sensitive hairs stood on end. 

 

With Sam in mind, Dean pressed on. 

 

The island just grew as he got closer, spreading that chilling feeling until he wore it like a coat. Dean clenched his jaw and rode the waves right along to shore, shutting the motor off and tying her to the first dock he could find. 

 

The first thing Dean noticed was the silence. 

 

It was dead quiet. The trees weren't rustling and the waves went still, not even lapping against his boat. There wasn't even a sound of insects or strange animals. Dean had worried that the sounds of new animals he wasn't used to would be bothersome but he was coming to realize he would've welcomed it. 

 

Dean walked across the dock, his boots clunking with every step. Dean swallowed, throwing one pathetic look back at the boat. No one was around to see him, which was the only reason he allowed it. 

 

Dean stepped out onto the beach, rubbing his hands over his goosebumps ridden arms. It was unusually cold, especially considering the fact that Dean was sweating away a few minutes back. It seemed like someone had turned the temperature down rapidly. 

 

“Just keep going.” Dean muttered to himself. 

 

He shook out his hands and kept walking. He steadfastly ignored the way his heart raced in his chest, threatening to break a rib. Or, the way his mind was on high alert, something in his instincts telling him to  _ leave now.  _ Dean thought about Sam and kept walking, breaking through the barrier of trees with a deep breath and a hard resolve. 

 

It was utterly silent and Dean almost thought that he could hear the own rapid beating of his heart. Only the sound of his steps created noise and Dean knew that was fucking weird, okay? But, it was for Sam and fuck the stupid legends and the warnings. 

 

There was a snap that had Dean freezing and snapping his head up, where he'd heard it. The tree seemed to freeze in spot but Dean was sure he hadn't imagined the rustle of the leaves or the sway to the branches. Yet, no matter how long he stood there and stared, the tree stayed still. 

 

He wasn't crazy. He was just... _ concerned. _

 

It could be worse, he guessed. The itch under his skin telling him to leave could've succeeded and he would've went back to Sammy empty handed. It was said that very few even got this far, so. 

 

Dean pressed inward, gripping each elbow and tucking his arms into his stomach. The farther he walked, the tighter he pressed. He was getting nauseous and still, he kept going. 

 

Just when he thought he was going crazy from the silence, he heard it. There was a small trickle, almost like a leak. Dean licked his lips, suddenly thirstier than he'd ever been in his entire life. He fought the urge to follow the promising sound of water and lost. His feet carried him to it until he could hear it like an echo in his head, feeling like a drumbeat in his veins. 

 

Dean's mouth was drier than what felt possible. His lips started cracking and his throat burned with every breath. His tongue felt like sandpaper and he just knew he was going to die if he didn't find that water. 

 

Dean forgot Sam. He forgot his original mission, his whole purpose. All that he could focus on was the water. He started searching for the water, running behind trees and ripping at plants to find a stream. It was there, okay? It  _ had  _ to be. 

 

Dean's mouth was on fire. No, it was literally aflame. His tongue was melting and Dean was swallowing fire. He let it burn him from the inside out. He couldn't stop it, no matter how much he tried. He clawed at his head, screaming,  _ begging- _

 

Dean blinked. 

 

There was no fire, his tongue was fine, and his lips weren't ripped. Hell, he wasn't even  _ thirsty. _

 

“What the fuck?” Dean blurted, sitting up. When had he fallen to the ground?

 

Dean had been sure that he was dying and he was positive there was a stream. But, there was nothing but silence again, besides his panting. His heart tripped in his chest and he licked his lips again. That was so fucked up and he should leave. 

 

Dean stood up and started walking forward instead. 

.

.

.

 

Dean felt as if he'd been walking for years before he finally reached the cave. It was tucked below a canopy of trees and seemed darker than everything else. The rock was cracked and carved into and had strange sigils engraved in it. 

 

Dean knew about this rock. He'd heard about it. Hell, everyone had heard about the rock. 

 

It was the Angels home. Or, so the legends said. Many warned against trespassing. Some said that those who went in never came back out. But, others said the secret to claiming an Angel was in the cave. If Dean had  _ any _ chance to claim an Angel and heal Sammy, he didn't have much of a choice. 

 

Still, Dean stared at the rock in awe for a few moments. It wasn't still like everything else on the island. It was  _ pulsing  _ with life and  _ throbbing _ with an energy that almost hurt. It was overwhelming and Dean wasn't sure he could handle it. 

 

“I have to do this.” Dean whispered. 

 

Dean ignored his trembling. He wiped away all his fears. He didn't recall the legends. Or, think about how everyone knew that Angels were the only ones who could heal the Demons plague. He didn't recall how people whispered about how, with one touch, an Angel could wipe away the damage the Demon plague did to a sick one's soul. 

 

Dean just kept walking. 

 

With every step, he considered stopping but Sam would flash through his mind and he'd keep going. The closer that he got, Dean could  _ feel _ despaired and a flinching fear. The closer he got to that darkness, the more it felt like that darkness reached out and soaked into him, making him  _ wrong _ somehow. 

 

Dean wanted to tuck tail and  _ run _ . 

 

Again, Sam flashed in his head. His sick, younger brother who did absolutely  _ nothing _ wrong to deserve his fate. If Dean couldn't do this because he was being a fucking wuss, he'd never forgive himself. 

 

So, Dean let every nerve ending curl in fear. And, he let every bad and disgusting feeling squelch into him, surrounding him and threatening to choke him. He fought the urge to throw up, swallowing down bile when it rose in his throat. And, he did it for Sam. 

 

It could've been decades or seconds, maybe, when he finally reached the mouth of the cave. Dean paused, staring at the nothingness before him. It wasn't a usual darkness, it was just... _ empty. _ If Dean didn't know that caves contained something, he'd guess that there was just nothingness before him. 

 

Swallowing, Dean reached in his pocket and grasped his lighter. He flicked it once and got just a small glimpse at what awaited him. But then, a sudden gust of wind brushed through the air and the flame went out. Dean couldn't get another one for anything. 

 

But, he'd seen something. 

 

There was engravings in the walls to his left. Dean took a deep breath, stepping into the cave and letting the darkness swallow him whole. He reached out until his hand met cold stone, fingers twitching against the cool and dented surface. 

 

“What is it?” Dean breathed out. “What am I looking for? What do I have to do?” 

 

Dean followed along the wall until his fingers dipped into the first engraving. He traced it, his hand making a wide arc, bowing in and curving out. Dean was confused and kept on. 

 

The next engraving was bumpy and inconsistent. It followed a sharp slope inwards before diving down. Halfway, it cut off and met the first sharp slope. Dean was left just as confused as before. 

 

Dean just kept going until he hit a new engraving. It was all curves, turning at all arcs, quick like taking a curve in his Baby. Dean bit his lip, tracing the engraving until it made even less sense. 

 

The next one was just three points that met. It was a line on top of another. It didn't really made much sense, despite it's simplicity. 

 

The next one was even simpler. It was just a line. Just a straight vertical line that Dean couldn't make sense of. What did it mean and how did it tie into the other engravings? Was it a different language? 

 

The next one was a vertical line with three more lines coming off of it at equal intervals. It stretched out to the right and Dean tried to connect the points. It only made rows and that didn't help either. 

 

The next engraving was just a vertical line that took a quick right turn and became horizontal. It was literally nothing. Dean couldn't help but feel hopeless. If only he could  _ see _ what he was feeling. 

 

The very next thing his fingers ran into felt like a stump. Dean's heart jumped and he slowly felt along the base of it. It was then and held up by something. Dean rubbed it and supposed it was wood. When his hand felt straw, Dean's heart started racing. It couldn't be, right? If that wasn't a torch, Dean would shoot himself in the foot. 

 

All he needed was one good flick. 

 

It took about a good minute but the flame caught for just a moment. Dean put it under the straw and blew. The lamp took a few seconds but suddenly, there was light. Dean grinned, letting out a breathless laugh. 

 

Dean turned and nearly screamed his head off. On a straw bed, a form was curled on it, apparently sleeping. Dean blinked and swallowed, taking a few steps closer. It was a man. A man with messy black hair and a five o'clock shadow. 

 

The man had a black blanket on him that looked six inches thick. Dean wondered where he got a six inch blanket from. Then, he wanted to slap himself. This clearly was the Angel and he needed to figure out how to claim him before he woke up and killed him. 

 

Dean whipped around to the engraving, staring at it with wide eyes. It had to be the answer. It wasn't huge but it wasn't small either and it didn't stretch far. 

 

**_C A S T I E L_ **

 

Dean tilted his head, half confused and half embarrassed. He'd acted as if the engraving was intricate and difficult when it wasn't. It was just...Castiel, apparently. But, the confusion was from him wondering how it helped him claim and Angel. 

 

Dean bit his lip and glanced at the form. Still fast asleep but Dean wondered how long that would last. He cleared his throat and straightened up. 

 

“ _ Castiel. _ ” Dean said. 

 

There was a moment where nothing happened. Then, that moment was quickly shattered when the Angel's eyes snapped open. Dean's regained enough control not to jump and stared in the blue orbs fixed on him. 

 

The black blanket shifted and Dean realized too late that the blanket wasn't a blanket at all but wings. They flipped open wide and had Cas soaring to his feet, wearing nothing but holey jeans. Dean took a few steps, eyes blown wide with fear. 

 

The Angel opened his mouth and his lips formed around a sound that Dean couldn't make sense of. It was like a different language, one he'd never heard before. When Dean didn't do anything, the Angel tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. 

 

“You woke me.” The Angel said. 

 

“You speak English.” Dean said in surprise. 

 

“You've done me a great service. You woke me and now I owe you a favor.” The Angel said. 

 

“What- Service? What?” Dean blurted out. 

 

“I am Castiel.” The Angel- Castiel said. 

 

“Okay.” Dean said and swallowed. “So, you're like my Angel? You'll, uh, do as I say, or whatever?” 

 

“How long have I been sleeping?” Castiel asked. 

 

“Um, Castiel… That's a mouthful. Uh, can I call you Cas?” Dean asked awkwardly. 

 

“What year is this?” Castiel asked, seeming unconcerned with Dean's bumbling. 

 

“Look, man-” 

 

“I need to see.” 

 

Without warning, Cas was suddenly right in front of him. Dean went to rear back but Cas just leaned forward and pressed his fingers to Dean's forehead. A warm tingle shot down Dean's spine and he sucked in a shape breath, his eyes falling shut by accident. 

 

“No, no,  _ no. _ ” Cas said when he dropped his hand. 

 

“What?” Dean breathed out, blinking at Cas. 

 

“It's been Centuries. Long enough for the legends to take a sharp turn. I am not  _ your _ Angel, Dean Winchester. You've not  _ claimed  _ me.” 

 

“I- Dude, did you just read my mind?” 

 

“I read your history.” Cas said. 

 

“That's- Don't don't that. And, what do you mean?” 

 

“I'm not something to claim, no matter your desperation. I was forced into sleep when I was betrayed by my brethren. They locked me away here in a tower of horrific nightmares. Only those worthy could've passed and found my message. You woke me, Dean. Saved me, not claimed me.” 

 

“Uh, that sucks that your brothers would betray you.”

 

“Yes. They felt that I had formed too much connections to the humans here on earth. I admit that I had but I wanted nothing but peace.” 

 

“Yeah, well, I just want you to heal my brother. You said you owed me, right? Heal him.” Dean said. 

 

“If that is what you wish.” Cas said, dipping his head. 

 

“That's what I want. Can we just-” 

 

Again, Cas reached out and touched his forehead. Instead of a pleasant tingle, there was a dizzying head rush. Dean sucked in a harsh breath and blinked rapidly. He felt like he would puke when he looked around and seen the comforting image of Bobby's living room. 

 

He'd just gotten clear across the world in less than three seconds. Dean groaned and clutched his head. 

 

“Breathe and it shall pass.” Cas hummed. 

 

“Don't do that  _ ever again. _ ” Dean snapped. 

 

“I brought you to your brother.” Cas muttered, a small frown tugging at his lips. 

 

“Right. Whatever. Come on.” Dean said urgently, reaching out and grabbing Cas’ arm, pulling him up the stairs. 

 

It was almost like he'd never left. Bobby was sitting on the bed, talking to Sam. Sure, there was no soup in sight and Bobby looked more worried than usual but still. Sam didn't appear to be listening, staring outside the window, blinking slowly. 

 

Abruptly, Bobby glanced up. 

 

“Dean!” Bobby blurted out, shooting to his feet. 

 

Sam's head whipped around as his whole body gave a jerk. Cas suddenly shifted, placing himself farther behind Dean, almost like he was frightened. 

 

“Bobby, Sam, I want you to meet Cas.” Dean introduced. “Cas, that's Bobby and my little brother, Sammy. He's who I need you to heal.” 

 

“You claimed an Angel.” Sam blurted out, his limbs flailing out in his shock. “You actually did it.” 

 

“No, no, I didn't.” Dean said quickly, feeling Cas tense up behind him. “The legends are a lie. Look, Cas can explain it to you. Cas, go ahead.” 

 

Dean shuffled until Cas was in full view. His wings were tucked in close to his back and his hands hung limply at his side. Cas looked at Dean and Dean gave him a small smile of reassurance. 

 

So, Cas started talking. And, Dean watched him. Hearing his story made Dean sort of pissed. What kind of fucked up family punished a guy for caring too much? But, the more Cas talked, the more he seemed to relax, as if talking about it helped him get his grounding. Bobby and Sam listened just as closely and intensely as Dean did. 

 

“And, Dean woke me.” Cas finished. “He saved me.” 

 

Dean shifted from foot to foot. That absolutely did  _ not _ make him feel some sort of way. Cas was attractive for an Angel and- no, Dean was not going there. Except, by the blush on his face, he  _ was.  _

 

“So, you'll heal me?” Sam asked quietly. 

 

“I owe my life to Dean. That is what he wants.” Cas said and he stepped into the room. 

 

Dean clenched his fists and walked in behind him, stepping around the bed. Cas tilted his head and eyed Sam curiously. Sam looked nervous, like he hadn't studied for a test that he needed to pass. 

 

“Well?” Dean asked Cas urgently. 

 

“You appear to be an abomination.” Cas told Sam casually. Sam's face crumbled. 

 

“Hey!” Dean snapped. “Apologize, man.” 

 

Cas looked up at him, frowning. He didn't seem to understand what he'd done wrong. Sam glanced down at the sheets and his fingers twitched against them. Dean guessed if he had the strength, he would have fisted the covers. 

 

“I was merely stating fact.” Cas murmured. 

 

“Whatever. Just heal him.” Dean muttered and then, as an after thought, he added, “Please?” 

 

Cas hummed softly and reached out, laying his palm to Sam's forehead. Dean watched worriedly, his stomach turning somersaults. 

 

Sam took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Dean watched as Sam took another breath. It was almost as if the air he sucked in was healing him. After each inhale, color returned to Sam's cheeks. His face softened and his body relaxed. Sam didn't look so gaunt or skinny after a few moments. Cas slowly retracted his hands and straightened. 

 

“He will continue to heal over time. I'd say he would be back to perfect health in a month.” Cas informed them, dipping his head. 

 

“Sam?” Bobby asked. “How do you feel?” 

 

“I feel…” Sam started, blinking his eyes open and staring at Cas in awe. “ _ Better. _ ” 

 

Sam gave a short laugh and shoved the covers away. He shakily stumbled to his feet. He stood for a moment, leaning against the bed. Sam took a step and it was shaky but he managed it. Sam's head snapped up and Dean watched as Sam launched himself at Cas, tumbling right into his arms and hugging him tightly. 

 

Cas’ emotionless face cracked and he blinked down at Sam's form. He carefully raised a hand and cupped Sam's head. He looked awkward but his eyes were wide with what Dean could only descrbe as pure wonder. A tiny, unconscious smile curled at his lips. 

 

“You're no longer an abomination.” Cas offered. 

 

“Thank you.” Sam whispered and it was muffled in Cas’ chest. “ _ Thank you so much. _ ” 

 

Dean felt something unfurl in his chest as he watched the scene unfold. Relief settled in him and elation crashed into him. Sam was okay. If Sam was, Dean didn't care about anything else. 

 

Dean moved around the bed and practically peeled Sam from Cas, pulling him into a tight hug. Sam went, folding close like he was four again. Dean didn't cry but it was a close thing. Sam clutched at him and Dean lifted his head, looking up at Cas. 

 

Cas was watching them, just staring like he was watching something fascinating. In that moment, Dean could've kissed him. He would've if he thought that would convey just how thankful he was. Cas had said that Dean had saved him but Dean thought he had it wrong. Cas had just saved  _ Dean.  _

 

“Get over here, boy.” Bobby ordered gruffly. 

 

Sam was still shaky and he stumbled but he got over to Bobby, hugging him too. Dean took his chance and walked up to Cas. He touched his arm and jerked his head. Cas just stared and Dean didn't even care that he didn't take the social cue. He tugged Cas out of the room, pulling him down the stairs. 

 

“Cas.” Dean said softly. “Thank you, man.” 

 

“I owed you a service.” Cas said. 

 

“Thank you anyway. If you need  _ anything _ . I mean, anything at all. Just let me know, okay?” 

 

“But, you owe me nothing and I owe you nothing. There is no debt to be paid.” 

 

“That doesn't matter. Just- Look, don't hesitate to come to me if you  _ do _ need anything, okay?” 

 

“Okay, Dean.” 

 

Dean sighed and closed his eyes, walking forward and hugging Cas. He couldn't help it. Dean would hug the devil if he'd saved Sam. Cas stood there, not hugging back, and Dean let out a short chuckle. 

 

“You hug back, Cas.” Dean explained. 

 

Cas hesitated a moment before Dean felt arms curl around him. It was a soft hug and it felt nice. Dean smiled against Cas’ shoulder. Cas might not know it but Dean was forever in debt to Cas. Eventually, after maybe a beat too long, Dean pulled away. 

 

“Is this illness common?” Cas asked. 

 

“Very. People die everyday from it. It's called the Demon Plague.” Dean said. 

 

“No Demon could do this. No Demon is capable of turning a soul so wicked, not like that.” Cas countered.

 

“I don't know what to tell you.” Dean said and shrugged. Cas frowned. 

 

“I think this is the work of my brethren.” 

 

“ _ Angels _ did this?” 

 

“Don't sound so shocked. I do believe so, yes.” 

 

“Is there- I mean, does a cure exist?” 

 

“No.” Cas said bluntly. “But, I do.” 

 

“What do you mean?” Dean asked. 

 

“I have to go undo everything that they did.” Cas explained, sighing. 

 

“Wow.” Dean whistled. “You've got a lot of ground to cover. Are you sure you want to?” 

 

“People do not deserve this, Dean. I need to go and unravel what my brothers started.” 

 

“That's good of you, Cas.” 

 

“I do have a favor to ask of you.” 

 

“Anything you need, man.” 

 

“I want to come back.” Cas said. “Here.” 

 

“Why?” Dean asked, confused. 

 

“I've been sleeping for decades, Dean. I could use a brush up on the times. I think you could help me with that.” Cas explained, grimacing. 

 

“You're welcome to.” Dean said. “Don't know how much help I'll be but I'd love to try.” 

 

“I will be back.” Cas told him. 

 

“Yeah, that's- okay.” 

 

Cas was going with a flutter of his wings before Dean could even finish what he was saying. 

  
But, Cas always came back. Eventually, he came back less for lessons of the world and more for Dean. And, Dean did not mind at all. 


End file.
